


Workplace Misconduct.

by Michaelssw0rd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Merlin, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd
Summary: The new art teacher is a work of art.It is quickly becoming a problem of grave significance for Merlin.





	Workplace Misconduct.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonflower999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonflower999/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Well That Sucks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610175) by [Moonflower999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonflower999/pseuds/Moonflower999). 



> Hey Moonflower999. Your fic was so adorably, wonderfully, tooth-rottingly sweet, and I had a lot of fun writing the scenario from Merlin's PoV. It was also really interesting to write them with tables turned, and with _Merlin_ being the unwittingly-rude one in his obliviousness. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this, and I dearly hope you think I've done justice to your fic.
> 
> Thank you Sky, for being the best beta anyone can ever ask for.

The new art teacher is a work of art.

It is quickly becoming a problem of grave significance for Merlin.

Life as an assistant principal is, well… hard, but in a way Merlin appreciates. Especially considering Gaius—the Principal of Camelot Elementary School—has given him pretty much complete autonomy over how he runs the place. Merlin arrives earlier than all the rest of the staff, and stays at the school premises until after every student has left, but it is all worth it when the results of their students keep climbing higher along with their morale.

The new art teacher makes his life even  _harder_ , in a way Merlin wishes he could appreciate more—would’ve appreciated more… in any other situation.

* * *

 

“Not him!” Merlin had said when the CV of Arthur Pendragon had been put in front of him.

“Why?” Gaius’s raised eyebrow had been a little too knowing, and Merlin blamed that for not coming up with a logical argument his sociology degree should’ve made him capable of pulling out of his arse.

“His teeth are crooked,” he had said. Not his best argument, he accepted, but it was at least based in the truth. That despite being crooked he wanted those teeth to bite him was not a part of the equation Gaius wanted to know.

“Merlin, the students need a new art teacher, and considering Cedric is no longer an option, we need to hire. Soon. Mr. Pendragon has excellent credentials.”

“Cedric wasn’t that bad…” Merlin had been the one who had hired him, so he felt compelled to defend.

“He spent half a semester making the students collect fallen bird feathers to make a coat.”

“For art!”

Gaius had only raised his eyebrow, and Merlin had cowered.

“But why him….” he had whined.

“Call him for interview!”

It was rare that Gaius took on such a decisive tone, and Merlin hadn’t thought it was wise to argue any longer.

Now he wishes he had.

Upsetting Gaius over hiring a teacher would’ve definitely been a more preferable outcome than being slapped with a harassment suit.

With the way things are going, that feels almost inevitable. Merlin has, after all, only so much self-restraint.

* * *

 

He spots Arthur entering the cafeteria and in his panic makes way towards the only hiding place he can find: the corner with the coffee maker. It is a mistake.

Arthur, apparently having decided he wants coffee at this very moment as well, also makes his way towards the corner where Merlin is not-hiding. Merlin wonders if Gaius will approve the bill for making an emergency exit in the coffee corner, or better yet, a trap door that opens in the ground and is triggered by mortification.

Remembering that he isn’t in fact, a young schoolgirl—that he actually teaches young school girls—he straightens his spine, and squints at the cup in his hand, as if it has sorely offended him.

“Mr. Emrys.” Arthur’s voice is tentative, almost scared. Merlin knows he has earned it. He has been trying to pretend to be cool and unaffected around Arthur, but for someone who doesn’t know what cool and unaffected attitude looks like, he probably comes across as a dick.

“Merlin, please,” he says, in a voice that is definitely dick-ish. “Mr. Emrys makes me feel like I am seventy years old with a long white beard up to my waist.”

The laugh that follows his statement takes him both by surprise and awe. It is more like a sharp bark, something that shouldn’t be attractive and he feels angry at the fact that it still very much is. Arthur must’ve noticed his frown at the unfairness of fate for making some people so offensively beautiful, because he cuts his laugh short and sobers up.

“Merlin,” he says, soft.

And this… the way Merlin heart flips at being called by his bloody name, is the unfairest of it all. He is angry at Arthur for using his own name as a weapon towards him. That’s why his next sentence is sharp and abrupt. “Is there anything you required, Mr. Pendragon?”

“I just…” Merlin chances a glance at Arthur then, who is shifting on his feet, uncomfortable. “I just wanted to thank you for the supplies. I know acrylic paints aren’t typical Elementary school art supply, but the students wanted to paint and I thought… anyway. I wanted to tell you that I appreciate it.”

“The satisfaction of the students of Camelot is my first priority,” Merlin uses his best authoritative voice to cover the blush that threatened to show. Arthur nods, looking strangely crestfallen. “As is the satisfaction of its staff,” Merlin adds, wanting to slap his forehead for being so affected by Arthur’s expressions.

The beaming smile that Arthur throws at him is totally worth the embarrassment, but is also bad for his heart. So he places his untouched coffee cup on the counter and nods at Arthur, solemn. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Having a private office is an excellent perk of being Assistant Principal. It gives him a place to hide in and slow down his heart.

* * *

 

“He wants to what?”

“Paint the gym wall,” Merlin repeats for Gaius, considerate of his increasing age and ailing hearing. “As a fun assignment for the second graders.”

“We renovated the place last year!” Gaius stares at him in disbelief.

“Yes.” Merlin doesn’t understand what the point is.

Gaius looks at him for a long time, before sighing. “This is becoming a problem, son. You need to do something about it, and soon. Stretching the school’s budget too thin and vandalizing its walls is not the way to handle your crush.”

Merlin wrinkles his nose. “I told you not to hire him.”

Then he pushes the paper forward, waiting for Gaius to sign the permit.

* * *

 

Merlin is sitting at his table, revising the class schedule for the upcoming week and despairing about his life in general when the door to his office bursts open.

There’s only one person who ever does that.

He reminds himself that he is the Assistant Principal, and it doesn’t suit his position to bang his head on the table. The reminder helps, but only barely.

“What did you do this time?” Gwen glares at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.” Gwen pushes a chair out and sits on it without asking permission. Merlin wonders why he keeps hiring staff so insolent, and how he expects them to teach the students respect when they themselves have none. “Which is why you’re hiding here.”

“I am not hiding!” Merlin splutters, outraged at the suggestion. “Freya is sick, so I have to find a replacement for her. And the dramatics event, even though good for the students’ morale, is going to throw all the classes off schedule—you know what? Why am I explaining this to you? I am your boss here.”

“Merlin,” Gwen folds her arms across her chest. “Arthur looked like someone had kicked his cat, and you are the only one that ever puts that look on his face. So… what did you do?”

Merlin sags in his chair. Maybe telling it to someone would make him feel better. It can’t make him feel worse anyhow.

“He was, well… there is this girl, Celia. She is so quiet; even Gwaine hasn’t quite succeeded in breaking through to her. I was just passing by and I saw her giggling,  _giggling_ , at something Arthur had said while showing him a paper that probably had something she had drawn…” He groans and covers his face at the memory.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Gwen sounds confused, which, well… fair enough. She doesn’t know the full story yet.

“It is!” Merlin sits up, looking at the papers on the table and most definitely not at Gwen. “I thought so too. But then he looked up, found me watching, and winked at me.”

Gwen doesn’t say anything, but now Merlin is feeling some of that outrage again. How dare Arthur wink at him, unaware of the havoc it would play on his heart and mind? Isn’t he the art teacher? Aren’t they supposed to be the observant sort? If Merlin didn’t know better, he would think Arthur  _wants_  him to have a heart attack so he can take his post.

 “So you see,” he continues, “I can’t be blamed for what happened next. It was Arthur’s own doing.”

“What did you do?”

“I told him to stop dilly dallying and get to work….”

“And?”

“And that we don’t pay our employees for idle chit chat…”

“And?”

“And that he needs to remember I am, in fact, his immediate superior.”

“Oh Merlin,” Gwen sighs, looking both hurt and exasperated.

“It’s not my fault he tends to forget that last bit! It’s almost like he is goading me, waiting for me to do something stupid, like run my fingers through his stupid blond hair, so he can file a suit against me and usurp my position.”

“Did it ever occur to you that he might just want to be your friend?”

“Well, I don’t want to be his friend!”

Gwen has learned the eyebrow raise from Gaius. They all have. And they direct it towards Merlin with alarming frequency.

“Well, I don’t want to be  _just_  his friend, and anyway, it’s a moot point. He probably hates me now.”

Gwen walks around the table and pats his shoulder. “He doesn’t hate you… but I am sure he thinks  _you_  hate  _him._ ”

“What? That’s impossible! I have been mooning at him since he came here.”

“I know that.” Gwen grimaces. “We all do. It’s really quite painful to watch, to tell you the truth. But I am afraid he is quite the oblivious kind.”

“Well good. If he thinks I hate him, he can’t sue me for harassment, or think he has to sleep with me to keep his job.”

Merlin ignores the sinking sensation in his stomach at the idea of Arthur thinking Merlin hates him, but he ignores it in favour of focusing on his work.

He has a job to do after all, and like he told Arthur, he isn’t paid for idle chit chat.

* * *

 

“Can we fire him?”

“He has done nothing to warrant that.” Gaius doesn’t even look up from the file he is perusing. “His evaluations came back more than satisfactory.”

“He has started wearing glasses now.” Merlin points out, as if anyone on the campus could’ve missed something that momentous.

“Has he?” Gaius finally looks at him, a glance that’s full of disdain before he turns back to his work. “It’s hardly a crime.”

“Says you,” Merlin mutters, but knows he is dismissed.

Gaius will realize how big of a crime it is when the police escorts Merlin out in cuffs. That, or the paramedics will carry his dead body on a stretcher.

* * *

 

“Mate! I hate to say this, but you really need to get laid.”

Merlin is off duty right now, so he allows himself to indulge in the urge of banging his head on the counter. Gwaine just laughs and slaps his back. “The UST is killing you.”

“UST?” Merlin peers at his old friend.

“Unresolved sexual tension. Trust me. Not fun.” Merlin sits up and downs the shot glass Gwaine has conveniently placed for him. “Well, it has been fun to watch for a while, but it’s way past that point now.”

“I hate you.” Merlin winces at the way the alcohol burns in his throat, but it’s better than the want that burns in his heart whenever he sees Arthur.

“I am saying this for you, Merlin! If you tell him you want him, the probability of him reciprocating is very high. Trust the math teacher, and the love guru. I know what I’m saying.”

Gwaine hands him another shot, and he obediently drinks it as well. “You’re being very nice.” He looks at him suspiciously; Gwaine is never nice without a reason.

“Hey! Can’t I care for my friend and the man who holds the power to fire me?”

“No. That’s not you.” Merlin shakes his head. “What’s in it for you?”

The faux innocent smile on his face is answer enough. “You know, a teacher’s salary isn’t all that much, and then there are the vacations…”

Merlin groans and motions for more alcohol. If he is going to hear the story of how he has become the victim of Camelot’s betting pool, he isn’t doing it sober.

* * *

 

The mid-year staff meetings are upon him, and he can no longer avoid sending the message to Arthur about it. Merlin can hardly stand to be in the same room as Arthur with half a dozen people around. He doesn’t know how he is going to resist molesting the man when he is in the room alone with him. This isn’t what he had signed up for when he took the job, and he tells Gaius as much, when he begs him to conduct the meeting instead of Merlin.

Gaius just walks out of the room without a comment, which—in Merlin’s humble opinion—is mighty rude and undeserved.

So two days after he is done meeting the second to last person on his list—Percival, the gym instructor—he sends Arthur an email with not a small amount of trepidation.

Then he begs the universe for some self-control.

* * *

 

“Are you satisfied with the working conditions of this institution, Mr. Pendragon?” Merlin stares at the checklist in front of him, so that he wouldn’t stare at Arthur’s bulging muscles instead. Merlin vows to ban the practice of rolling up one’s sleeves while on school premises. It is a health hazard.

“I am, Mr. Emrys.”

“Merlin… remember?” Merlin glances at him, and it’s a mistake, watching Arthur bite his lips and watch him back. He quickly averts his eyes.

“Only if you call me Arthur as well. It feels like an uneven ground otherwise.” Arthur finally allows, leaning back in his chair.

“It  _is_  an uneven ground, Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin emphasizes, and notices Arthur’s expression fall. “Anyway, I called you here today to get feedback about the work environment from you. I always conduct these meetings around this time of the year to know how the new staff is settling in, and if they are happy with how things are going. Our goal is to have a happy school community. After all, if the teachers are happy, the students are going to reap the benefits!”

He barely resists the impulse to file for that trap door thing again, and instead settles for squeezing the bridge of his nose. He has the Rambles-When-Nervous disease; unfortunately, there’s no cure.

“I can’t complain. It’s the best place I’ve ever worked in.” Arthur says, and Merlin can’t help smiling. The man knows how to get to the bottom of Merlin’s heart!

“Wonderful! I am glad to hear it.” To look less like a gaping idiot, and more like a person in a supervisory position should, he ticks off a box. He doesn’t know what the box says… he will fix it later. “Anything else you would like to say, or ask? Anything that will make your work environment more satisfying?” He knows there is a question like this on the assessment sheet, and doesn’t try to linger on the fact that he is  _invested_  in Arthur’s satisfaction.

“Not particularly,” Arthur says, and Merlin lets out a sigh of relief. It’s a premature move, because Arthur’s voice takes a firmer tone then, as if he has decided something. “There  _is_  one thing I would like to know.”

Merlin chances a look at Arthur, and sees the determined set of his jaw. He knows he is going to regret asking it, but he doesn’t see a way out of it. “What?”

“Why do you dislike me?”

“Excuse me?” Merlin raises his eyebrow in the intimidating way Gaius does, and he knows he must look idiotic. He has tried to perfect the expression in front of the mirror many times and it’s always been a disaster. Arthur doesn’t seem very intimidated.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You are kind to everyone, polite and friendly, but when you talk to me you’re always so… cold. Tell me what I’ve done wrong, so I can fix it.”

“I… uh… I really don’t know what you mean by that Mr. Pen…”

“Arthur! My name is Arthur. And that’s it. That’s the only reservation I have about this job. I don’t think I can be satisfied working in a place where my supervisor hates me.”

“I don’t hate you!” Merlin claps his hand on his mouth at his outburst, but the damage is done.

Arthur tilts his head at him, curious, his eyes still showing the resentment and the hurt. “You don’t?”

“No,” Merlin laughs, feeling a little hysterical. “I really, really don’t.”

“Then why…” Arthur squints, and then his eyes widen. “Oh!”

Merlin wants to sink into the floor. Actually, he wants to sink until he reaches the underworld and then shake Hades by his collar and ask him what Merlin had ever done wrong to put him in a situation like this. He compromises by just slumping in his chair.

“You  _like_  me!” Arthur says, as if it’s an epiphany.

Merlin just groans in response.

“Is that why you’ve been keeping your distance? Acting so cold and aloof? Why, Merlin, I’m flattered. But you could’ve just said so.” Now Arthur is openly grinning, and Merlin throws up his hands, tired of trying to keep his feelings a secret.

“Yes,” he mutters miserably. “I have considered resigning; don’t think I haven’t. I even thought of giving up my parking space, and you have no idea how much I love my parking space. But Gaius won’t let me fire you, and he won’t let me fire myself. Sometimes I think he enjoys watching me suffer.”

Arthur has probably never seen Merlin ramble before, so he has an adorable, confused crease on his forehead. “What are you saying, Merlin? Why do you need to fire me, or fire yourself?”

“Because of this!” Merlin sits up and waves a hand encompassing the whole situation. “This thing… it’s harassment. Use of my position as your supervisor to take advantage of you! I don’t know about you, but I really,  _really_  don’t want to end up in jail.”

“Well, that sucks.” Arthur says, as if wanting to avoid jail was something ridiculous. There is laughter in his voice though, and a smile on his lips.

“It does! I really am sorry about this. I never wanted you to find out, but I am dreadful at this whole secrecy thing. Just, please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Arthur repeats his words, but they are far softer, far more deliberate.

“You don’t?”

“No,” Merlin can’t resist looking at Arthur now, and feels his heart beat louder in his chest when he sees the smile on Arthur’s lips. “I really, really don’t.”

“Even though I’m guilty of workplace harassment?”

“Is it still harassment if the one you’re harbouring inappropriate feelings towards reciprocates them?” Arthur stands up from his seat, and Merlin shrinks more in his own. He doesn’t understand what Arthur is asking.

“Huh?”

“You know, I have read the workplace conduct manual. I am so not sure if you have.”

“22 C- Regading workplace relationships: someone in supervisory position approaching the junior staff is discouraged,” Merlin shoots back, having memorized the sentence because of how often he stares at it.

“Discouraged, yes. Forbidden… no.” Arthur steps closer towards him, and Merlin’s only options are to feel trapped while sitting in his chair, or feel trapped while standing. He stands up.

“Umm…”

“But that’s not the point. The point is, there really is nothing written there about the junior staff propositioning their superiors.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“You want to…”

“Yes!”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Merlin is outraged at the months of torture he put himself through.

“Well, let’s see. Because the man I thought was gorgeous and interesting on the very first day seemed to hate me on sight, and glared at me whenever he saw me. Yes. Can you see how that might have put a damper on my efforts of wooing you?”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Merlin looks up from under his lashes, knowing he’s blushing.

“Yes.”

“And interesting?”

“I take it back. I think you are an  _idiot._ ” Arthur’s hand comes to cup his jaw.

Merlin nods. “That’s fair.”

Arthur laughs, and this time Merlin allows himself to enjoy the sound. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

“I think you’re something too!” Merlin has lost all brain-to-mouth filter. He dares anyone else to do better in his situation. “That is… I mean… I think you’re gorgeous as well, and interesting, and hot.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Merlin is about to say he is thankful to god as well, but before he can voice the sentiment, his words are muffled by the sensation of lips pressed against his own. Yes. That is definitely preferable to finishing his sentence. He melts into the kiss, and is disappointed when it ends too soon.

He isn’t disappointed by Arthur’s next question though. “So, what do you say? You and me, going on a date?”

“Ummm…” Merlin contemplates between says yes, hell yes, or hell fucking yes.

“If it helps, I think it’s an essential requirement for my job satisfaction. You can put that in your reports.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice then. Anything for Camelot!”

“Burdens of being an Assistant Principal, I suppose. Or should I say perks?” Arthur pulls away, and there is a smirk on his face that Merlin wants to kiss away.

There is no reason he can’t. So he leans forward and does exactly that.

“Perks, definitely perks.”

* * *

 

Arthur and Merlin walk out of the building with their fingers interlaced together.

Unbeknownst to them, two members of the staff watch their departure. Then, Gwaine extends his hand forward, palm up.

“Damn you! What did you do?” Gwen rummages in her purse and places a twenty on his palm. He grins, folds it and places it neatly in his pocket.

“I got him drunk and explained to him the meaning of UST.”

“You learned that from me!” Gwen complains.

“More like, I learned it from your fan fictions. Excellent use of your literature degree, by the way.” Gwen blushes and walks away while muttering under her breath.

Gwaine straightens from his slouch. He has more money to collect after all. He sees the buff gym teacher coming out of the door, and grins.

“Percy! Just the man I was looking for. So you know that bet we had at the beginning of the year? Guess what—“

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this silliness was fun to read. I would love to know what you thought. <3


End file.
